Saturday 26 February 2011
With the rain at this time of year there is a sudden profusion of flowers in the fields and hedgerows. Something different every day.
Guessing wildly, as I've no time to check my facts, these are (probably) chamomile daisies, wood anemones and a tall white flower. Under the trees the ground is carpeted in pink and white and yellow - its all very lovely.
Saturday evening - last night of the Panto and just starting to enjoy it. Friday was the best night of the run. After Thursday's debacle, Friday was a joy - everyone remembered everything, I even got a few correct notes in my songs, and we brought the house down.
Dave was there for the last night, and after a post-curtain mingle we took the cars back to Nidri (Panto was in distant Vlicho at the yacht club). The feeling of release was startling - no longer any need to keep checking my lines were firmly fixed in my head, no worries about sneezing when supposed to be playing dead, no more fear that the director would condemn me for 'spoiling the magic for the kids' by smiling out of character ...
At one point, full of the joys of beer and inspired by my new-found delight in photo-journalism, I climbed onto the DJ booth bar to take a shot of the dancing girls.
There was only one possible outcome: yes, I'm now guilty of dancing on the bar in Biblos, just like the real seventeen year olds in the summer. What a state! No-one can outdance Julie, so she got up there with me.
With the rain at this time of year there is a sudden profusion of flowers in the fields and hedgerows. Something different every day.
Guessing wildly, as I've no time to check my facts, these are (probably) chamomile daisies, wood anemones and a tall white flower. Under the trees the ground is carpeted in pink and white and yellow - its all very lovely.
This isn't a wild flower, but it looked so majestic I stopped to take a photo anyway.
Saturday evening - last night of the Panto and just starting to enjoy it. Friday was the best night of the run. After Thursday's debacle, Friday was a joy - everyone remembered everything, I even got a few correct notes in my songs, and we brought the house down.
Dave was there for the last night, and after a post-curtain mingle we took the cars back to Nidri (Panto was in distant Vlicho at the yacht club). The feeling of release was startling - no longer any need to keep checking my lines were firmly fixed in my head, no worries about sneezing when supposed to be playing dead, no more fear that the director would condemn me for 'spoiling the magic for the kids' by smiling out of character ...
... so we partied!
At one point, full of the joys of beer and inspired by my new-found delight in photo-journalism, I climbed onto the DJ booth bar to take a shot of the dancing girls.
There was only one possible outcome: yes, I'm now guilty of dancing on the bar in Biblos, just like the real seventeen year olds in the summer. What a state! No-one can outdance Julie, so she got up there with me.
In case anyone is inspired to try it - the trick is not to move your feet!
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